


Little Sister

by veiledndarkness



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-29
Updated: 2012-02-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veiledndarkness/pseuds/veiledndarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hated Merle for making him need this.  Written for the twd_kinkmeme on Livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Sister

He wished he could say he hated the way his heart pounded while he stood in front of the cracked bathroom mirror, eyeliner pencil in hand, a scowl on his lips, but the truth was that he was already half hard. He swiped the pencil along his eyelid, smudging it with one finger, well versed in the ways of making his makeup look just slutty enough to satisfy his brother’s urges.

The navy blue shade rimmed his lids, bringing the clear blue of his eyes forward. Daryl sneered at his reflection, the jagged break in the pane of glass distorting his image. He wanted to hate this but the routine was far too familiar.

Eye shadow and liner complete, Daryl let the pencil clatter to the sink. A cigarette burned on the ledge and Daryl grabbed it, inhaling deeply as he stared back at himself, still sneering. He hated how he looked, but his dick said otherwise.

Merle was waiting for him, waiting on the sagging mattress in the other room, waiting impatiently for Daryl to come out of the bedroom, to sashay over to him, shake his ass like a low rent hooker and submit to whatever fucked up fantasy Merle had cooked up lately.

“Christ,” he muttered around the cigarette in his mouth. He took it out long enough to run the tube of pink gloss over his lips, leaving them slicked and shiny. He held the cigarette between two fingers and looked away from his reflection.

He was half dressed, wearing only a froufrou frilly skirt, his chest bare. Daryl took one last drag and blew a plume of smoke out, watching the tendrils float up to the ceiling of the bathroom. He could hear Merle’s footsteps in the other room, hear the sound of metal clanking dully on the floor and his cock twitched under his skirt.

He hated that he wanted this, on some fucked up level.

He hated the fact that he was getting harder by the second, knowing what was waiting for him, knowing that Merle would have the handcuffs out, ready for him to use, ready for him to pin Daryl’s arms behind his back, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

He knew, step for step what would happen, the thinly veiled insults they would exchange before Merle would seemingly switch and start crooning filthy endearments, tell him how he was such a pretty girl and how he knew what a pretty girl needed from a man and Daryl would be hard and beginning to leak under his skirt as Merle restrained him, as Merle used his mouth roughly, as Daryl would squirm, wanting to come but knowing it wouldn’t be any time soon.

Daryl swallowed thickly, feeling arousal surge through him. He wanted this, fuck it, he did. He wanted Merle to touch him, to stroke his hair as he fucked his mouth, to tie him down and listen to him beg and cry when the sharp sting of a lit cigarette would press into his skin, burning him until he was on fire all over, desperate to come, his makeup muddied and running in slutty, messy trails over his eyes and down his cheeks.

He shuddered and gripped the sink with both hands, sweating lightly. He wanted it and he hated himself all the more for it. He hated that it wasn’t until Merle was deep inside him, that it wasn’t until he was debauched on the bed, skirt rucked up to his waist and makeup ruined before he’d hear genuine affection in Merle’s voice, hear the words he wanted to hear all along.

Daryl studied his face in the cracked mirror and his eyes stung, cigarette smoke obscuring his face until all he could see were his made up eyes, too blue and world weary. He hated how much he wanted this and he hated Merle for making him need this.

He let the cigarette fall into the sink, hearing his heart pound in his ears.

Merle was waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was based off this photo: 
> 
> http://i43.tinypic.com/293wspy.png


End file.
